


Sneak Peek

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-10-22 06:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10691721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: A very young Kakashi gets a hold of a scroll that allows him a sneak peek in to his distant future. It's not what he expected to see.





	Sneak Peek

**Author's Note:**

> I'm moving some older stories from FF.net to here

At the time, the fact that it was his birthday didn’t really register on Kakashi. He hadn’t seen a calendar for two weeks because they had been out of the village on a mission in to Mist territory, so the exact date was sort of vague in his mind. He couldn’t have cared less about it anyway. There was nothing special about the day he was born, it passed just the same as any other. So when Minato-sensei said he could be the one to present the scroll they had found to the Sandaime because it was his ‘big day’, he only gave his team leader a blank look and accepted the words with a tiny shrug. Minato-sensei was weird, and Kakashi frequently allowed his comments to pass without asking for an explanation. He wasn’t really interested in catching his sensei’s weirdness. 

It wasn’t the only treasure they had brought back. Obito’s pack was carrying documents that would prove Mist village’s involvement with an incident they had been investigating for months now. Rin had swiped some interesting books. However, the scroll Kakashi had brought back to the village was the one they were all most interested in seeing. It had been under some pretty heavy duty seals, a small label warning anyone from even touching it. It was supposed to contain a jutsu that allowed to user to catch a glimpse of their life twenty years in to the future. Heeding the warning, they had yet to unravel the silken wrapping that covered the scroll. With his sensei’s permission, Kakashi swung his pack off and set it between his feet, flipping open the top flap and lifting the treasure out with something as close to reverence as his young, embittered mind could muster. 

The silk was deep, rich blue, and it reminded him of the color of the sky after a lightning storm. For some reason, even years later, he would never forget that beautiful shade of blue. The ends were knotted in a kind of graceless way, crinkling the soft material, and it was the work of a moment for his nimble fingers to pull them apart. Peeling the layers back one by one, he was left holding a bed of blue silk upon which rested an innocuous, plain looking scroll. It was deeply aged, the paper gone yellow from the turning of years, and the bottom edge was frayed as if someone had been rolling and unrolling it roughly. To him, after seeing the stupendous covering, what had been revealed was kind of disappointing. 

“Go on, Kakashi-kun,” Minato-sensei said from beside him. “Hand it over to the Sandaime.” They were all standing in the Hokage’s office. They were covered in dust from travel, and the others still bore rucksacks on their shoulders, but they’d been eager to disclose the information they’d gathered on the mission, not to mention reveal the assets they’d collected. From behind his desk, Sarutobi-sama watched him with that calm face he wore so well, dark eyes regarding him from underneath his wide brimmed headdress. 

The young silver haired shinobi didn’t think about the warning they had read on that small label. He didn’t think about any possible dangers. He thought only of following orders. So in response he nodded once and reached over with his other hand to grasp the scroll, his intention to hand it over to a higher authority without asking questions. 

As soon as his hand touched the cracked paper, the world around them seemed to dissolve. No one in the room moved, and they could all still see each other, but the room itself disintegrated in to a swirling vortex of every color imaginable, all of them spinning like water down a massive drain. He heard Rin screaming, Minato-sensei calling out for them to remain calm, and his own blood pounding in his ears. He tried to pull his hand away from the scroll, but found he couldn’t. His right hand was catatonic, clenched underneath that which it held, and his left was pressing down as if drawn like a magnet. He could not have pulled his hands apart if the world depended on it. 

It only occurred to him briefly that the vortex around them gave off no noise. There was no wind, no roar of movement, just perfect silence in to which his terrified companions cast their babbling voices. The idea was a fleeting one, because even as he realized the lack of noise, the world righted itself again. Only now, they were most definitely not in the Hokage’s office. The colors speeding around them slowly righted themselves in to a different picture, a different place. The five of them, Team Minato plus the Sandaime, took calming breaths as they assessed their surroundings. 

They had appeared in an alleyway at night. Chakra signatures could be felt moving around close by, so it couldn’t be too late, but there was no one here at the moment. At the mouth of the alley, they could see the corner of a shop that was all too familiar, and it gave them all the information they needed to know about where they were. That weapon shop had been standing since the founding of Konoha. Likely it would remain standing long after the city itself. So, they were in their home village, they had just moved. But why? 

All five of them tensed when a figure appeared on the roof edge above them, cloaked in shadow. Without hesitation, the figure vaulted from the roof and dropped in to the alley with them, landing right next to Rin. The young girl startled away with a shriek, but the newcomer didn’t even spare her a glance. Still crouched, their head turned left, then right, as if checking for pursuit. Kakashi was uneasy to discover that he felt no presence. This person’s chakra was so tightly pulled in, even standing right there, he was undetectable. 

Then the figure took a step forward and looked up, observing the windows that opened in to the alley from the second floor. When they saw him, none of them could help staring. 

It was a man, and he was obviously well past childhood. The tight shinobi clothing he wore revealed well-muscled limbs, and he towered over all of them, standing at somewhat over six feet tall. His hands were semi covered in worn fingerless gloves. The bottom half of his face was covered over by a navy mask, but the strong jaw line was well highlighted by the tight material. His leaf hitai-ate was pulled down diagonally to cover his left eye, so the only visible part of his face was his right eye, black as the night he crept around in. It was the hair that gave it away, though. Only one person could have that hair. The silver tresses were even wilder now, standing almost straight up off his head before tilting rakishly to one side. 

“Holy shit,” Obito burst out. The man before them didn’t even flinch. He didn’t appear to see them or hear them. “Kakashi-kun, that’s you! That’s you from the future! Cool!”

Kakashi stared. That was him? Then the jutsu must have activated as soon as he had touched the scroll. Which would explain the warning. That would mean they were currently viewing his future exactly twenty years from now. What was he doing though? He looked like he was sneaking around the village. Was he investigating a fellow shinobi? Was he on a secret assassination mission?

Future-Kakashi’s visible eye crinkled at the corner, but it was hard to read his expression when less than a quarter of his face could be seen. The man stepped forward and began crawling up the wall like some sort of spider, obviously using chakra in his fingertips and his feet. When he reached the window he wanted, he pulled something out of his flak vest and deftly picked the latch, sliding the glass pane open without a sound. In fact, in the time since he’d appeared, he hadn’t made a single noise even once. When he carefully vaulted his body through the open window, the observers felt a strange pulling in their gut. 

Suddenly, they weren’t in the alley anymore. Now they stood in an unlit bedroom as Future-Kakashi dropped through the window on soundless feet, sliding his lock-picking tool back in to its pocket. They watched him quietly pad over to the open doorway and cautiously poke his head around the corner to look up and down the hallway outside. Not seeing anyone, he crept out. Their group followed this time, watching him pad down the hall, placing each footstep with care. He didn’t appear bothered by the darkness and his body moved with a self-assured fluidity that could only come with time. At the end of the hallway he stopped, staring ahead of himself passively. He didn’t move for so long, just stood and observed, that those who remained unseen stepped around him to look at what was so fascinating. 

The hall opened up in to a warm inviting living room. At the other end there was a double-wide archway, through which a kitchen was visible. Standing at the sink with his back to them, a man was washing dishes while listening to the radio quietly. His brown hair was in a ponytail and he wore the standard shinobi blacks without the vest. His sleeves were rolled up to avoid getting wet, revealing corded forearms. From behind, he was impossible to identify. They all looked back to the man who had snuck in. Could he really be here to assassinate a comrade? 

Finally, Future-Kakashi moved. He slipped around the corner and crouched low, prowling forward like a panther stalking its prey. He moved through the living room, dark eye intent on his target, but when he stood under the archway, he was stopped. 

“I know you’re there,” the man at the sink didn’t even pause his movement when he spoke. Just kept scrubbing the plate in his hands. His voice was kindly, the kind of voice that made you want to stop and listen. Future-Kakashi stood still for the space of one heartbeat, then his whole body sagged forward comically, his head dropping backward as if in exasperation. 

“How?” he whined. _Whined_. The real Kakashi stared at his future self in astonishment. His adult voice was deep and masculine, which pleased him, but that was definitely a whine.

“I always know when you’re there,” the brunette shinobi answered calmly. Future-Kakashi stood straight again and tilted his head. Then he fell back in to his crouch as if he planned to continue his attack. 

“Then you should know what I’m about to do.” Now his voice sounded light, teasing even. The younger Kakashi was sure he’d never teased anyone before in his life. Oh sure, he taunted Obito mercilessly. But playful teasing was beyond him. 

The man still washing dishes spoke in a clipped, teacher-like voice. “Don’t. You. Dare.” This did nothing to stop what was coming. Future Kakashi pounced, bounding across the remaining space between them in two long-legged steps and grabbed his prey. His arms slid around the brunette’s waist and then he stepped back, twirling them in a circle with a low laugh. The face that they saw fly by was tanned, and he was laughing too, his mouth almost as wide as the large scar that bisected his nose. “Kakashi put me down!” the man cried out, though he did nothing to fight the hold. His captor spun them a couple more times before complying. 

As soon as his feet touched the floor, the tanned man spun around in the circle of Future-Kakashi’s arms. He reached a hand up towards Future-Kakashi’s face and – to the shock of the five watching – pulled down his mask. Even more shocking, the silver-haired man let him. 

And then they were kissing.

Around him, the real Kakashi could hear the soft exclamations on his companions, but they were not what he was focusing on right now. He was staring at himself locked at the lips with another man. And, if the desperate noises were anything to go by, they both looked to be enjoying it. When his future self raised hands to frame the tanned face pressing against his own, the younger Kakashi’s eye zeroed in on a detail he hadn’t noticed in the dark. A wedding ring. Was he…married? It seemed impossible. He’d promised himself, after his father died, that he would never let anyone in to his heart. He would be an island, a perfect shinobi. A perfect shinobi did not need friends, and he certainly did not need love. So how could he be married?

Finally the two men pulled apart, resting their foreheads together and grinning in an absolutely sickening display of sentimentality. They looked deliriously happy, and it made both their expressions a little stupid. For a long moment, they stared in to each other’s eyes without saying anything. Then the tanned man stroked his beloved’s cheek. 

“Welcome home,” he said in a low voice. Future-Kakashi hummed. 

“It’s good to be home,” he admitted. “I missed you.” The man with the scar across his face raised both of his eyebrows, his fingers going to the pull on his pseudo-captor’s vest, drawing the zipper down deliberately. 

“How much did you miss me?” The vest was pushed off.

“My god, I love you,” Future-Kakashi’s voice was husky with sudden want, and the look on his face turned hungry in an instant. “I’m never leaving again.” 

His gloved hands tugged his lover closer, kissing him deeply. When they pulled apart this time, the tanned man smirked and murmured, “You say that after every long mission but it’s always a lie.” He sounded playful. “Admit it, you’d get bored sitting at home all the time.” His own hands were working under the hem of Future-Kakashi’s uniform shirt, stroking along his hip bones and eliciting a groan. 

“Iruka,” the silver-haired man breathed his lover’s name like a prayer. He allowed their bodies to separate so that his shirt could be pulled off of him, revealing a pale chest rippling with muscles, but crisscrossed with a roadmap of scars. Far from seeming put off by the remains of so many wounds, the brunette leaned down to lick a particularly thick one that ran across the collar bone.

“Kashi,” he whispered in to the skin. “I missed you Kashi.”

Future-Kakashi grabbed his lover’s head and brought him back up for more kisses. He stepped forward, forcing the other man back, guiding them through the living room and in to the hallway he had only a minute ago been sneaking down. The five people still standing at the end of the hallway hurried to press themselves out of the way as the couple passed. They were all wide eyed, even the Hokage, and the two adults were so shocked they couldn’t seem to muster up the words to tell the children that they should probably close their eyes or something. 

As the two bodies stumbled by, they could hear the scarred man gasp and say with hitching breath, “Happy birthday, love.” He got a rumbling chuckle for a reply.

“My birthday? I’d forgotten. Maa, you make a great present, Iruka.”

“I love you.”

The brunette’s last words were strangely distant as suddenly the world began to dissolve again. The walls disappeared in a swirling vortex of colors, and this time there was true silence. No one screamed or babbled, or even spoke. They just stared as the world spun around them until it abruptly stopped. The rotating colors solidified and became walls, a floor, a desk; they were back in the Hokage’s office. Presumably, they were also back in their own time. 

The silence didn’t last very long. For a few moments, no one spoke. Everyone turned to stare at Kakashi, who simply stood there with unfocused eyes, trying to comprehend what he had just seen. His left hand slid limply off of the scroll when the magnetic draw finally let go. His right hand clenched it from beneath in a violent grip, crushing the blue silk. He barely noticed; cared even less. His brain was whirring with so many questions he barely had time to think one before another formed. 

“I saw Kakashi-kun’s face!” Rin’s excited whisper broke the reverie in the office. 

“That was so cool!” Obito burst out. “What was with the hitai-ate, though, right? What, do you lose your eye, cyclops?”

“Kakashi-kun, you looked so handsome! So grown up!” Rin’s eyes sparkled as she turned to gush at him. 

“I was grown up,” he mumbled absently. Honestly, girls were so stupid. No wonder he married a boy. He married a boy!

“Well, Kakashi-kun,” Minato-sensei’s hand landed on his head, ruffling his hair. “Good to see you’re still kicking, twenty years from now, eh? I admit, I was impressed. You must do a lot on infiltration work at some point to get so good at concealing your presence. And the way you moved! I’m so proud! And it’s all thanks to your amazing teacher, of course!” The blonde man grinning down at him. Kakashi stared back. 

While the more enthusiastic members of Team Minato gushed and exclaimed and chattered, the Hokage moved to sit at his proper place behind his desk. He folded his hands and regarded Kakashi from under the brim of his headdress in the exact same way he had before this whole thing had played out, with calm eyes and a considering expression. It would have been unnerving if Kakashi were anyone else. And if he hadn’t been wholly wrapped up in his own thoughts.

A banging noise brought the team’s loud prattling to a halt, and they all looked around. Someone was knocking on the door. Actually, it sounded like someone was kicking the door. And yelling. They waited, then the knob turned and someone let themselves in. 

The chūnin looked harried, and the grimace on his face was that of a man who was _so done with this shit_. One of his hand was holding a young boy off his feet by the back of his shirt. The young boy being held in the air couldn’t be more than five or six. He was flailing and yelling insults, but as soon as he saw where he was, he froze. He looked at the Hokage with wide eyes, then his face bloomed with a brilliant, innocent looking smile. His brown hair was pulled up in to a perky little ponytail, and across the bridge of his nose, a bright pink scar ran across his face. It looked barely healed. 

“Hokage-sama, _please_ , you promised that you would deal with him personally next time!” The chūnin sounded like he was on his last nerve. He gave the now-still body in his hand a shake, which made the innocent smile falter and the wide eyes narrow down. The child reached in to his pocket and pulled something out, tossing it at the ground with all the strength his small arms could muster. When a brief flash of light appeared on impact, the adult instinctively let go to shield his face with his arms, dropping the child to the mercy of whatever he had used. 

What he had used was nothing more than a miniature flash bomb he’d obviously created himself. The distraction worked, and he dashed away from his captor with a triumphant grin. When the chūnin realized he’d been duped, he growled and chased the child, who ran a full circle of the office.

“Nyah! Tsuneo-sensei can’t catch me!” the small boy taunted. Then he charged out of the room, short legs pumping at incredible speeds to keep him ahead of the man following him. The chūnin gave chase, almost frothing at the mouth in anger. 

“Iruka you get back here! When I get my hands on you-“ Their voices faded as they continued out of earshot. 

Once again, silence reigned in the office, only now they were all staring at the door that the short disturbance had come and gone through in under a minute. This day was absolutely full of surprises. Shaking it off, Kakashi was about to return to his musings about his own personal shock when the chūnin’s retreating words finally made their way in to his brain – and he felt it short circuit. 

“Iruka…” he whispered. Behind him, the Hokage hummed. Kakashi turned to find him puffing contentedly on a pipe.

“Yes, Umino Iruka. I recognized the name while we were in your vision. Quite a spirited young man. Already he shows an impressive affinity for traps, although he uses them mostly to pull pranks on his instructors.” The elder man puffed on his pipe again, calculating eyes watching Kakashi as if waiting to see how he would react. But the young silver hair boy didn’t know how to react. That was him? That was the person he was supposed to grow up and marry? He didn’t feel ready for any of it. He was supposed to be the perfect shinobi and regain the honor his father had lost! He wasn’t supposed to be haring off to fall in love with some kid who couldn’t even take his classes seriously! Besides, what if the kid didn’t like him? Kakashi didn’t even know how to make friends. How do you make someone fall in love with you?

As his mind began the decent in the panic, Minato-sensei brought him back to reality by ruffling his hair again. 

“Everything will happen in its own time, Kakashi-kun,” the blonde man said. “There’s no need to rush.” Kakashi immediately felt better. Everything in its own time. Yeah. That, he could deal with. This Iruka would just have to wait until Kakashi had regained his family honor. Then they could…what?

“He said he loved me.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded small. He looked up at his mentor with wide eyes, feeling lost. Minato-sensei smiled reassuringly. 

“And he will. Don’t you worry Kakashi-kun. Someday, you’ll get to know each other, and he’ll love you just for being you. You saw it, the same as I did. So don’t rush, but don’t dawdle. When the time is right, you’ll cross paths, and you’ll know just what to say. Things might not start out perfect; nothing is perfect. Maybe he won’t like you, at first. Just be patient. Be yourself. Someday, you’re going to have one of those loves that makes the history books.” 

Kakashi frowned up at him. “What?” he asked flatly, skeptical about that last bit. Minato-sensei winked.

“I saw the way he looked at you. That’s the way I look at Kushina. The way she looks at me.” He looked smug, like he’d made some kind of point, but Kakashi shrugged off his nonsensical words as another crazy moment. 

It didn’t matter. Crazy moment aside, he felt better now with the advice he’d actually taken away from the older man’s words. Everything happened in its own time. Someday in the future, he was going to fall in love with another boy named Iruka. Someday, they would get married, and he would come home from missions and they’d kiss and…stuff. Whatever it was grownups did after the kissing bits. But that wasn’t today, and it wasn’t tomorrow. Right now, he had other things to focus on. 

Maybe Iruka would love him if he were a jōnin. It didn’t seem too hard. Kakashi was a good chūnin, and he had a lot of hard missions under his belt already. He could probably make jōnin in the next couple years. Provided all went well, he’d deal with this whole love thing a few years from now. 

\-------------------------  
Roughly 17 years later.  
\-------------------------

Kakashi was confidant in his decision. He knew his team wouldn’t pass the chūnin exams, not without several miracles and an aneurysm on the part of the judges. But it was an important experience that they needed to have. It would be good for them to see the strength of others to give them a goal to strive towards. He could hear the murmurs of the other team leaders of the older genin. They were shocked at his decision, but he didn’t have to explain himself to them. 

When Kurenai and Asuma also nominated their teams, he was a little surprised, but not very much. He knew their students were also coming along well, and they were as filled with pride as he was for the little trouble-makers.

What did surprise him was when someone actually spoke out.

“Hold on, just a minute!” That voice. Whoever that was, they had a lovely voice, gravelly yet kind, made for yelling. Kakashi smirked under his mask. He wasn’t much given for relationships, for reasons he never cared to explore, but he’d definitely like to make that voice scream at least a couple times. 

The Hokage didn’t even change expression when he said, “Yes, what is it, Iruka?”

Kakashi felt his blood run cold in his chest. Iruka. He knew that name. Memories flooded in of a birthday long ago. A jutsu that looked forward. A homecoming full of love. A promise to himself never to love, then amending that promise. He would never love another until Iruka. How did he forget? Why, he’d forgotten because he had buried the promise of a happy future after experiencing so much pain. He’d lost Obito, then Rin, then Minato-sensei. Everyone he cared for falling around him like flies. He had closed his young heart, and renewed his vow. He was the perfect shinobi. He would never love again. 

Kakashi turned around as if in a dream, and was met with an angry face, tanned to perfection. The scar had faded to a dark line that complimented his skin tone. His eyes were deep and the perfect shade of brown. He still wore a ponytail. Probably always had, probably always would. He was angry though, angry at Kakashi and the other two standing with him. The jōnin felt himself bristle reflexively. He didn’t have to explain himself. Not to anyone. But…he’d grown up. He’d grown up lonely, wanting love but afraid to reach for it. He was ready to reach now. How could he ask for love from a man who looked at him with such distaste?

As Iruka’s fiery eyes met his own dark one, he heard Minato-sensei’s voice echo in his head down the long corridors of memory, “ _Maybe he won’t like you, at first. Just be patient. Be yourself. Someday, you’re going to have one of those loves that makes the history books_.”

In his head, Kakashi sighed. _Iruka, please forgive me_ , he thought. _You’ll love me, I swear it. But first, I think I’m going to make you hate me_. Then he smiled behind his mask. 

This promised to be a wild kind of ride. The kind that made it in to history books.


End file.
